


Fade To Its End

by PaintedBird1214



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Fluff, Overdosing, Suicide, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 17:00:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12709116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedBird1214/pseuds/PaintedBird1214
Summary: Thomas Jefferson finds his purpose by letting his song fade





	Fade To Its End

**Author's Note:**

> What's this? An actual finished thing? From me? Wow, never thought I'd see that. Maybe I should write one chapter things more often. Anyway, this is also my first time writing no kind of fluff whatsoever so, y'know, that's fun. Enjoy!

An ink-stained hand grasped the bottle like it was a lifeline, the only thing keeping them moving. It was irony Thomas laughed at as he thought it, considering the pills inside the bottle would soon be doing quite the opposite. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. If it was nerves or the aftermath of his two hour long crying session, he didn't know so instead of thinking about that, he tuned into the sound of the pills rattling against the bottle. It was soothing, to say the least.

The other hand twisted of the white cap, setting it on the nightstand to his right. Now he could see the pills more clearly. They were white and oval-shaped. That was all Thomas knew about them but he'd done his research using the label on the bottle and knew that they would do the job just fine. He'd counted them earlier, finding there were a total of sixteen pills left. Still, after dumping them out on the nightstand, he couldn't help but count once more, just to make sure he'd counted correctly. He moved them over one by one as he counted, happy when he finished with the same sixteen.

With the pills ready, Thomas stood up and walked over to his desk where a single piece of paper sat front and center. Everything else had been put away somewhere else or organized at the edges of the desk. There was no need to make finding the note hard. He reread it for what must have been the twentieth time since he wrote it. That wasn't counting the times he'd checked and rechecked it as he was writing. He felt it was the least he could do to make his last words neat and perfectly written. After all, he wouldn't want to leave a bad impression, not when he'd gone through all his life with a good reputation.

After reading it and finding no mistakes or blemishes, he set it down again. He was careful to make sure it was placed exactly how it had been before, flat, straight, and centered as best he could manage. Then, with everything set and ready, he left the room. He went room to room, straightening everything and making it look the exact opposite of what he felt. As he left each room, he turned off every single light and shut the door quietly behind him. Once he had gone through every room in the house and had turned off all the lights, he trudged through the dark back to his room.

As he entered the room, shutting the door quietly as he had with every other door, he felt his emotions wash away. He would never leave this room with his own two feet again, a fact that made a small smile form on his face. A fragment of him knew he shouldn't be smiling, that most people would be crying and praying for someone to stop them, save them, but the rest of him knew most people take their final steps feeling like they don't have a purpose. Thomas knows where his purpose is and this is his only way to reach it.

He has three steps left. The first two are quick and simple, open the blinds and turn off the light. That way he has some light when he takes his last breaths but he doesn't waste electricity. Who knows how long it'll take someone to find him? For all he knows, it could be months, when somebody has to come and check up on him because he hasn't paid the bills. The third is the most important, the step that'll lead him down the path that leads to his purpose.

He sits down softly on the edge of his bed. A million thoughts run through his mind, though they're just there to fill the silence and don't form complete thoughts. They're what other people believe he should be thinking about. They're what he would be thinking about if his purpose was still by his side every day. There's only one thing that's important, that stands out against the rest.

_I'll see you soon._

Thomas takes it slow, seeing no need to rush it. Sure, he's desperate to see his purpose again but hurrying would do nothing but make it sloppy. Taking his time shows everyone else that this was thought out and planned. It wasn't a spontaneous action brought forth by sudden explosions of emotion. It's a scheduled action brought forth by a constant ache that make it impossible to focus on much else. Doing it slowly takes him down the same path in a neater fashion and Thomas has always been a fan of neatness.

He takes one pill at a time, swallowing it fully and taking a small sip of water to help it down. He keeps his intervals between pills as steady as he can manage. He enjoys the even calm of it, like the soft thump of his foot on the ground to keep his tempo steady in a song. He doesn't bother counting the pills. He plans on taking all of them, just to be sure he won't survive. If this weren't successful, he'd never be left unmonitored next to a pill of bottles. It would be a shame, considering he'd be forced to either live without purpose or find another way to reach it and all those other methods are too messy for Thomas's liking.

As the number of pills running through his system increases, he finds it difficult to keep up to his tempo but he pushes through until it's physically impossible for him to keep up. Then he slows down the tempo, imagining he'd gotten to a slower part of the song of his departure. When the pills become too much for his body to handle and he can't reach the ones still left on the nightstand, he sets the cup of water down next to him. He's surprised he doesn't spill a few drops with his hands shaking worse than they ever have before. With nothing in his hands, he lays down on his bed, pulling the covers over him. Then, as if he was going to sleep, he closes his eyes and lets his song fade to its end.

* * *

_To whoever may care,_

_Please, do not mourn me. It is all I ask of you and I ask it for one simple reason and one reason alone: my purpose for life on earth met its demise one year ago and now it is time for me to find that purpose once again. To state it simply, Alexander Hamilton and James Madison were collectively my sole reason to live and now, a year after their physical departure from this earth on that fateful night, it is my time to meet them once again. I took those pills not to escape not having a purpose but to find my purpose. My death is not an occasion to mourn. I want you to celebrate my demise for it is what has given me happiness. The past year has been nothing more than tolerating living a life I no longer had purpose for nor would ever find purpose for again._

_That, however, was not my only reason. I knew that my continued life was causing more strife and stress than all things good. My inability to retain a sliver of reason to continue living has been the cause of plenty of fights between not only myself and others but also two or more separate other persons. Nobody could understand it from the way I saw it and as a result, tension was created between everyone involved. In taking my own life, I have cut off this supply of stress and tension. I know you might be thinking that I have just created more and I know that, in the short run, yes I have, but once you all get past the initial shock and emotion of it, the stress will start fading away and less will be supplied to you. You were all constantly dealing and putting up with my uselessness and persisting pain, things that time would not have fixed. It was a certain fact everyone around me would have had to deal with it until my death so I cut that time short but forcing my death._

_Those were my two big reasons though I'm sure there are more less obvious, more  subconscious reasons behind it as well. I hope you can come to understand my reasoning; I hope you come to find peace in it as I have. I believe this is the best path for me. I will be happily watching you live from wherever I may end up in the afterlife. May you be able to find the happiness I could not in the face of death. Now I must say goodbye. It is near the time for me to find my lover, my dear Alexander, and my best friend, my caring James, once again._

_With love,_

_Thomas Jefferson_

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in one sitting and was only checked over for surface errors like misspelled words so I don't expect it to be my best. Also, I did the very minimal research on drugs that are effective for suicide by overdose so if I got the effects wrong, I'm sorry! I literally just found a drug that has been proven to be effective for suicide (hydrocodone) and based the pills off that for appearance but didn't bother looking up how it immediately effects the body and how long it takes for the pills to start doing damage. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and I would appreciate it if you tell me what you think!


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